


Pun-kin

by patentpending



Series: 13 Days of no-longer Halloween [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Puns, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Puns & Word Play, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 05:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patentpending/pseuds/patentpending
Summary: With the changing of the seasons comes all sorts of fun Fall activities Patton is so excited to do with his famILY.  The only problem is that they… don’t seem that interested.





	Pun-kin

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mentions of knives; self-deprecation; sympathetic Deceit.

Crisp, cool autumnal air drifted into the furthest corners of the mindscape, carrying with it the smell of falling leaves.  Patton’s eyes snapped open, and he tumbled out of bed, scrambling to throw open his window.  He marveled through wide, sparkling eyes at the changing of the seasons, so slow in real life yet so quick here.

The forest beyond his window rippled, color spreading like spilled paints.  Green was splashed over with the most breathtaking oranges and reds and browns and yellows, spreading faster and faster until the world beyond Patton’s window was overtaken by Fall.  He breathed out a soft sound of awe.  Roman really outdid himself this time.

He would’ve stayed, nose pressed against the window and breath fogging up the glass, but the morning was already beginning to ripen, and as the steadily-climbing sun set aflame the brilliant colors of the forest, he spotted something.

Patton rummaged around in his closet until he found a cozy blue turtleneck, slipping it over his head and delighting in the slide of soft cotton against his skin.  As he descended the stairs, he hummed a song from that Halloween and Christmas movie Virge loved so much.

The crisp air was a pleasant shock when he stepped outside, and, grinning, he nestled deeper into his sweater.  If his eyes hadn’t deceived him, just around the side of the house should’ve been -

“A pumpkin patch!”  Patton exclaimed, pump(king)ing a fist into the air.  He buzzed around it in excitement, admiring the beautifully tall, smooth faces.  His mind flitted away, imagining grinning Jack O’ Lantern faces and flickering candles.

It took a few trips, but he managed to get five pumpkins inside, one of each member of his famILY.  He hummed as he laid out the newspaper, carving tools, and cute designs, excitement thrumming in his bones.  This was going to be so much fun!

Patton darted off to go find the others.

Deceit was in none of his usual  _haunts_  - by the newly-crackling fireplace, a sunny spot, or sniffing hopefully around the kitchen, but Patton, undeterred, went to knock on Virgil’s door.

“Coming!”  His dark, strange son groaned from inside.  The distinct shuffling of fabric, as if he were just rolling out of bed, heralded the opening of the door.

“Hey, Patton.”  Virgil stood loosely in the doorway, slumped against it with soft eyes and rumpled hair.  “Everything good?”

“Just perfect!”  Patton grinned.   _“Orange_  you  _pumped_  for halloween, Virge?”

Virgil ducked his head down to hide his snorting laugh behind his sleeve.  “Nice.”

“Speaking of the spooky season” - Patton rocked back on his heels - “do you want to carve pumpkins with me?  I just got out one for each of us!”

A flicker of regret passed over Virgil’s face and he darted his gaze back inside his room before he snorted.  “No thanks, Pat. I’m the only thing in this house that’s empty inside. Can’t have any competition for my branding.”

“Oh.”  Patton blinked before plastering a smile on his face.  “Good one, kiddo!”

“I’ll see you later though, Pat,” Virgil pledged, sliding back into his room.

“Later,” Patton said hollowly to an empty space.  He twisted his fingers into the hem of his shirt, trying to push down the lump in his throat.

Well, Virge didn’t want to, and Deceit was nowhere to be found.  That wasn’t a big deal.  Patton shoved his shoulders back and fixed his smile on his face more pointedly.  He and Roman and Logan would still have a ton of fun!

He marched down the hall, towards the library.

 

“Heya, Lo!”  Patton called as he swung the heavy oak door open, smiling at the sight of the other side curled up against the Autumn chill with a book and a mug of tea.

“Salutations, Patton.”  Logan slid a bookmark in his Agatha Christie novel.  “‘What is the up?’”

“Last I checked, it was the opposite of down.”  Patton chortled.

Logan sighed heavily and wondered if Roman could be persuaded to call down as asteroid strike in addition to the changing of the seasons.  “Is there something you require, Patton?”

“Well,” Patton hedged, smiling hopefully.  “I was wondering if you wanted to come carve pumpkins with me! I think Roman’s still out changing everything over to Fall, but he might join too!”

“Pumpkin carving?”  Logan adjusted his tie, trying to keep the grimace off of his lips.  “It does seem a… traditional activity in which to participate.”

“It’ll be fun,” Patton cajoled.  “You can even make a Sherlock pumpkin!”

When called by the allure of Benedict Cumberbatch, Logan had no choice but to agree.  “I had a bit of a previous engagement, but this does sound… lit.”

He followed Patton to the kitchen and started on a pumpkin.  He easily cut off the top as Patton happily settled in next to him.  The logical, orderly side’s face grew increasingly still has he eyed the pumpkin’s stringy innards.

“So I am to next… scoop this out? And I am not referring to the slang term in which something is investigated.”

Patton nodded, engrossed in excavating his own pumpkin innards by the handful.  Logan cringed as they hit the newspaper with a wet splat.

“Very well then. I’ll just…”  Logan gingerly reached a hand into the unclean monstrosity.

Logan quickly bowed out after getting his first touch of the pumpkin’s slimy innards.  “I’m afraid this endeavor is not quite… agreeable, Patton. You’ll excuse me if I ‘duck out’?”

Patton had quacked softly and didn’t stop Logan as he rushed away to spend time doing things that wouldn’t coat him in gunk.  Patton watched him walk away, and, with a sigh, he refocused on trying to cut the top off of his pumpkin.

Well, three down, and one nowhere to be found.  Great.  

He didn’t blame the others for not wanting to spend the time with him.  He knew they had other, more important things to do.  It’s just that sometimes he let himself get too caught up in the fantasy he had in his head.  Patton had seen the leaves changing colors and immediately got caught up in a whirlwind of daydreams about apple cider and movie nights, newly-knit scarfs and walks in a kaleidoscope forest, the four of them joking and laughing as they all carved pumpkins together.

Well, it was just a fantasy.  Patton should know better than to make the other sides go along with his silly plans.  He had just been daydreaming a lot lately.  Probably because he’d been spending so much time with -

“Roman!”  Patton exclaimed after he turned around and came face-to-chest with the other side.  He backtracked and smiled up at the other side, immediately wiping the melancholy from his face with skill honed form years of practice.  “Hiya, kiddo!  I didn’t see you there.”

“I heard there’s a heinous pumpkin-monster that must be slayed.”  Roman winked down at him, wielding a carving knife like his sword.  “Who better to do so than a mighty prince?”

Patton lit up, genuinely this time.  “Really?”

“But of course!”  Roman declared.  “I can hardly think of a better way to celebrate the changing of the seasons I so masterfully pulled off this fair morning.”

Patton beamed.  “You really did a great job! I got up extra early to watch.”  He cheerfully motions to the pumpkins behind them, disregarding Roman’s startled look.  “The pumpkins were a vine touch, if I do say so myself.”

“You, um” - Roman blinked at Patton, looking flustered for some reason -  “you were watching this morning?”

“Well, yeah!”  Patton chirped.  “You always do such a good job, and I love all the pretty colors you come up with. Plus, pumpkins!”

“Thank you.”  A flush crept across Roman’s face, warring with his growing smile.  “I was thinking of you when I made that, actually.”

Patton blinked at him.  “Really?”

Roman shrugged, words uncharacteristically stilted.  “Just… seemed like something you’d like. Something we could do together.”

A soft smile blossomed on Patton’s lips.  “It is.”

They stood for perhaps a moment too long, standing a step too close, smiling at each other a touch too softly before Patton’s swallowed and looked away.

“Well, come on then!”  He chirped, forcing himself back towards the gourds.  “Let’s give everyone  _pumpkin_  to talk about!”

They settled into a comfortable semi-silence, humming a beneath their breaths, not quite a duet, but something that completed the other perfectly, as they concentrated on their carvings.  Under the table, their knees gently knocked as each unconsciously leaned into the other.

“Where’s Mansfield Snark?” Roman suddenly asked, registering the decapitated pumpkin but distinct lack of Logan.  “Jack Sulking-ton’s busy sewing, but I thought the nerd would be here!”

Patton paused for just a moment too long.  “Oh, he wasn’t really having fun with me, so he… he left.”

Roman was silent for a moment, chewing pensively on the inside of his cheek.  “I’m sure it was nothing against you.”

Patton laughed, and it was only a little too bitter.  “It never is.”

Roman blinked, setting down his knife and turning to the other side.  “What do you mean?”

“I’m just never anyone’s… first choice, you know?”  Patton carefully peeled away a sliver of pumpkin skin, carefully keeping from looking at Roman.  If he did, he was sure the other side would somehow see the pool of unhappiness that simmered in Morality’s stomach every given second of the day.  He wasn’t just morality, after all.  He was the roar of anger, the strike of hurt, the deepest, darkness torpor of sadness that kept you from getting up in the morning, staring at the ceiling with blank eyes and wondering what the damn point of it all was.  He was a wash of emotions, carefully hidden beneath a sunny smile.

“I’m not upset about it,” he hastily amended, plastering that smiling mask onto his face.  “It’s just the way it is.”  Patton still stared at his pumpkin, gently shaving away a chunk of orange flesh.

Roman reeled back.  “What?!”

Patton shrugged, shoulders tense.  “Nothing. Forget about it. I’m just outta my  _gourd.”_

Roman made a noise of protest, setting down his knife and laying his hand over Patton’s, forcing the other side to still.  “Hey, no making witty puns to deflect.”  A sardonic smile flickered over his lips.  “I know you think you can make a joke and people will think everything’s fine, but trust me, it either doesn’t work or works too well.”

Roman’s fingertips burned the back of Patton’s hand, and Patton finally looked up at the other side, surprised to see an echo of himself in those eyes.

“I just…” Patton felt Roman’s fingers intertwining with his own, bolstering him.  “All of you always seem to have better things to do than hang out with me.”

“Patton…”  Roman said his name but could not make it any further.  The memory of each condescending smile, each casual dismissal, each brush-off, pushed down upon him, grinding him to dust.

“Like I said” - Patton pulled his hand away - “not a big deal.”  He turned back to his pumpkin, bangs falling into his eyes.  “Let’s just keep going.”

“You’re not second best,” Roman said.  Patton stilled.

“What?”

“You’ve never been second.  _Never.”_  Roman clenched his hand at his side, trying to stop it from trembling.  “I know we can all be forceful, and I know it’s so easy to be forgotten, but you’ve never been anything but the best, Patton.”  He reached out and smoothed the other side’s soft brown curls away from those brilliant eyes.  Despite himself, he smiled, eyes far softer than he wished.  “You’ve always been the best of us all.”

Patton silently pressed his face further into Roman’s hand, taking comfort in its warmth.  “Thank you,” he finally said, voice scarcely more than a whisper.

“No need.”  Roman brushed the smooth sweep of Patton’s cheek with his thumb before his own worries pulled him away.  He turned back to his pumpkin, flashing a hesitant smile.  “Come on, padre. I made these for you, after all.”

Patton was lost for a moment, caught up in a forged memory of what could’ve happened if Roman hadn’t pulled his hand away, but he snapped back into the moment, returning that hesitant smile.  “Okay.”

He slid into his place beside Roman.  “Sounds good.”

They began to work again.

Patton made much faster work on his carving than Roman, partially due to the fact that Roman seemed intent on carving an exact replica of the Disney castle, and partially due to the fact Roman kept sneaking glances away from his task and towards the other side.

Patton was practically glowing with contentment, head tilted in concentration and a crooked little grin dancing on his lips.  Vaguely, Roman wondered what it would be like to have the other side look at him like that, with such happiness and focus, but he quickly shoved the thought away.  He’d managed to keep from ruining anything with Patton through furtive daydreams and love letters burned as soon as they were finished; he didn’t intend on wrecking this peace anytime soon.

He contented himself with shifting just a little closer, letting his glances last a little longer, and smiling just a little softer.  Unfortunately for him, these pleasant distractions caused his focus to suffer.  With a jerk of his wrist because Patton had stuck his tongue out just a little in concentration and  _seriously, who have him the right to be that cute?,_ a ghastly crack appeared in the pumpkin shell, splitting Cinderella’s castle in half.

“Well, shoot,”  Roman huffed out a breath of frustration, eyeing his mistake with barely-concealed ire.  “That’s not ideal.”

Patton winced at the crack running the length of Roman’s creation.  “Do you know how to fix a Jack O’Lantern?”

“This is the set-up for a pun, isn’t-”

“A pumpkin patch!”

“I knew it.”  Roman sighed, but couldn’t help the smile that flirted with the edge of his lips as Patton dissolved into peals of laughter.  The smaller side giggled helplessly, eyes shining with mirth.

“Come on, Padre, we got a bonafide pumpkin predicament on our hands.”

“You mean bone-afide?”  Patton spun his pumpkin around to reveal the dancing skeleton adorning the front of his gourd.

Roman stared into the distance dramatically.  “I have been both bested in puns and in pumpkins.  Surely, my pride shall never survive this day.”  He swooned dramatically, one hand tossed against his forehead and the other supporting him on the counter.

“Aw,” Patton teased, leaning over him.  “Need me to kiss it better?”

Roman’s eyes opened to see the other side above him, all shining eyes and grinning lips.  “Yes,” he said before he could stop himself.

Patton stilled.  “What?”

This was the point at which he could have backed out.  If Roman had laughed it off, excused his words on a slip of the tongue, stood up and smiled sheepishly, Patton wouldn’t have questioned him.  Patton would’ve laughed along with him, just a bit too high-pitched and a bit too eager to be real.  He would’ve filled the kitchen with forced cheerfulness, until it became almost real.  They would’ve separated awkwardly, each going to lie sleepless in their beds and wonder  _what if._

Roman, however, had never been able to help himself when Patton was involved.  He had seen Patton in the kitchen, dejected and lonely, and he had bounded in before he could even ask why.  Now, however, with Patton looking down at him with those wide eyes, Roman thought he had a pretty good idea.

“Yes.”  Roman swallowed.  “I need you to kiss it better.”

“Oh.”  Patton blinked, then again, eyes widening.  “Oh!”  A tiny smile, one of the rare real ones Patton had, flickered across his pink lips.  “Okay.”

A jolt of adrenaline shot through Roman’s system as he leaned forward, the hand that was on the counter coming forward to cup Patton’s face.

Tragically, Roman, a certified disaster gay, forgot that he actually  _needed_  that hand for balance.  

He fell onto the floor with a yelp, dragging down the newspaper full of pumpkin guts with him.  They splattered extravagantly, coating him with a liberal helping of slime.

He looked incredulously at the goo before throwing his head back dramatically and groaning.  “This is definitely not my color.”

Patton’s voice was tinged with laughter as he crouched down to get a better view of the pitiful prince.  “You good there, Ro?”

Roman winced.  “Just dying of embarrassment.”

Patton stifled a giggle as he leaned forward, picking some of the innards off of Roman.  “I always knew you were the one with all the  _guts_  in this family.”

 _“Orange_ you so kind,” Roman muttered, slinging a tendril off of him in disgust.  “Ugh, I’m a mess.”

“You’re  _gourd_ geous.”  Patton protested, a wry smile flickering at his lips as he wiped away the last of the slimy pumpkin innards.

Roman couldn’t help but laugh.  “Whatever you say,  _pun-_ kin.”

Patton, still laughing, was suddenly helpless to do anything but lean forward and press their lips together.

The still-same thrill as when he had stared in awe out of his window rose in his stomach as Roman kissed him back, leaning forward and gently cupping Patton’s face in his calloused hands.  

Patton made a soft noise in the back of his throat and pressed closer, wrapping his arms around Roman’s neck.  He could feel Roman’s heart beating, strong and true, against his chest and felt his own pulse thrum in time.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against Roman’s.  “Is now a good time to admit that I’m in love with you?”

“Is now a good time to admit that I’m in love with you, too?”  Roman responded, half-laughed, half-breathed.

“Roman, we’re ready for you and Pat- oh,  _finally!”_

Patton hastily pulled away, flushed, as Virgil leaned against the doorway, smirking.  “Does this mean Princey’s days of sighing wistfully and staring dramatically out of windows are over?”

“I wasn’t sighing  _wistfully,_ ”  Roman protested, trying to smooth his hair back to its usual perfect coif.  “I was sighing  _pensively._ Completely different.”

Virgil snorted.  “So you were being a  _deep_  melodramatic idiot instead of just a melodramatic idiot, got it.”

He laughed as Roman sputtered, and Virgil sauntered into the other room.  “Come on, we’re waiting on you!”

Patton blinked, confused.  “What’s happening?”

“Later, we will definitely be continuing where we left off” - Roman grinned at him, ducking in for a quick kiss - “but right now there’s a surprise waiting for you right now.”

He stood, brushing off the imaginary residue of pumpkin guts, and held out a hand for Patton.  “Come on, my darling.”

Patton couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach or the grin on his face as he took Roman’s hand.  “Is it a good surprise?”  He couldn’t help but ask.

“The best,” Roman pledged, squeezing his hand.

Patton smiled and swung open the kitchen door before stopping dead in his tracks.

He gaped, wide-eyed, at the common room, adorned with black (spider-free) curtains, a snack table, Halloween music crackling through the air from a phonograph, and Virgil, Logan, and Deceit standing before him with hopeful smiles.

“Roman thought you might want to do something with everyone for Fall,” Virgil explained, smirking.  “And I figured it’s never too early to start the spooky season.”

“It was  _entirely_  my idea,” Deceit proclaimed from next to the punch bowl, eyeing it and Logan’s stern expression in turn.

Patton laughed, smiling at him.  “I’m sure you had  _everything_  to do with it, Dee.”

“As a matter of fact, he was in charge of the majority of the decorations.”  Logan narrowed his eyes at Deceit, mouthing a ‘no’.  “I managed to summon some snacks much more sanitary than those ghastly pumpkins of yours.”

Deceit sighed melodramatically and slid the silver flask in his hand back into his cloak.

“And I did the costumes,” Virgil concluded, tilting his head towards a clothing rack with a smirk.  “I think you’ll like them.”

Patton approached trepidatiously, eyeing the black upon black clothing, but a slow grin spread over his face when he saw what it was.  “Is this…”

“The Addams Family,” Logan finished.

“Ba-da-dum-dum!”  Roman sang out the theme as Virgil snapped, deadpan.

“You guys!”   Patton felt his eyes watering and fanned his face with his hand.  “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Deceit shrugged.  “You contribute nothing to this family, and we don’t appreciate you. Besides, it wasn’t Roman’s idea.”

Patton cooed, dragging in his slimy son for a hug, despite a hiss of protest.

“Thank you all so much,” he murmured, pulling in Virgil and Logan as Roman wrapped his arms around them all.

“We love you, Patton,” Roman said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  “I know we’re not always the best at showing it, but we do.”

“Speak for yourself,” Virgil groused.  “I’ve been the number one Patton stan since day one, but no, no one cares about that, Virgil.”

“Now, kiddo,” Patton clucked sternly.  “If you think I don’t appreciate you, you don’t know…  _jack!”_  He jerked his head towards his Jack O’ Lantern, grin matching that of his gourd.

Logan took several deep breaths and stared at a candle, as if evaluating the viability of self-immolation.

They spent the night there, laughing and snacking and dancing (with varying degrees of success) while, on the porch, two pumpkins, carefully nestled next to each other, glowed.

**Author's Note:**

> Gord-geous art by @ierindoodles [here](https://ierindoodles.tumblr.com/post/179258571024/13-days-of-halloween-day-two-pumpkin-read)


End file.
